"Oh, I should adore you if you had, Mr. Neligage."
"By Jove, then I'll swear I did write it."
Fairfield regarded the girl with heightened color.
"You had better be careful, Miss Calthorpe," he commented. "The real author might hear you."
She started in pretty dismay, and covered with her hand the flower nestling under her chin.
"Oh, he is not here!" she cried.
"How do you know that?" demanded Jack laughingly.
She sank back into the corner of the sofa with a blush far deeper than could be called for by the situation.
"Oh, I just thought so," she said. "Who is there here that could have written it?"
"Why, Dick here is always scribbling," Neligage returned, with a chuckle. "Perhaps you have been telling him what you thought of his book."